Hot Fuzz: Another Tomorrow
by Aya Brea X
Summary: So what if the NWA members did not believe Danny really killed Nicholas and followed the two in their own cars? Shounen-Ai Danny x Nicholas, Creepy Skinner x Nicholas
1. Chapter 1

Another Tomorrow

Chapter One: Collision

_So this was it._ Nicholas thought as he drove Danny's Volkswagen down towards the M4 junction. _Danny._ His partner's face--red from the tail lights--haunted him still, even though by now he must be at least 20 miles away from where the parted.

"Extremely regrettable" was an epic understatement. Danny had made his choice, and he chose to continue living the lie that was Sandford. Frank was a murdering mastermind responsible for the death of Sergeant Popwell, Nicholas' predecessor. The thought brought a caustic sensation to his chest, much like how he felt when he heard about Uncle Derek's side job as a drug dealer. Angel had a keen sense of intuition when it came to suspects in a crime investigation, but it appeared that he was absolutely useless when it came to those he considered his friends.

The burning feeling left him moments later, but it took all the other feelings he should be having at a time like this with it. He was neither furious nor disgusted, and those were two things he should have been nurturing right about now. Only emptiness remained as his glazed eyes counted the white dividing lines on the road.

_One. One. One._ Nicholas counted. _Maybe Danny should have just stabbed me with a proper knife._

A pair of headlights zeroing down on his position snapped him out of his reverie.

"Shit! Skinner's plates." Nicholas said to himself through a scowl. Even worse: Other cars followed in a caravan behind Skinner's car. _No time to be an emotional zombie now._ Quickly he considered the worst case scenario: The NWA figured out Danny faked the stabbing to save him, a couple of the NWA members followed Danny in their car, picked him up, and now they were here to eliminate Nicholas.

The question was: What were they planning to do with Danny? As far as Nicholas could tell, Danny has had it much easier than anyone else who broke the law in Sandford. Drunk driving only cost him a month's supply of chunky monkey. However, letting Nicholas get away and putting the NWA's plans in jeopardy were far more serious in the eyes of the NWA, and maybe not even Inspector Butterman could protect Danny this time from the crazed mob. Nicholas already saw first hand that they could murder one of their own—the late Ms. Tiller— without so much as a second thought at how ridiculously derailed their logic has gone. Justifying really cutting off Danny's head could not be far off in their runaway train of thought.

Nicholas moved on to consider his options: Surrender for Danny's life? That had a 50 percent chance of failing. It really would be just in their hands. Reason with them? Nicholas quickly dismissed that idea. Fight them? No, Nicholas was unarmed and the caravan that was closing-in on him was probably armed to the gills. Outrun the mob? Nicholas knew the VW could only outrun Skinner's Jaguar for so long.

_How to save Danny?_

Quite unnoticeably to himself, several emotions had found their way back to Nicholas. Once again he was angry at the NWA for having crossed still another line in their petty game. Once again his heart ached when he thought about how Danny chose not to fight by his side.

Now he was scared Danny would die.

_Why do I even care what happens to Danny?_ Angel thought as he shifted the car into fifth gear and accelerated to buy himself some extra time.

It was a rhetorical question. Nicholas already knew why.

_Oh, how he could not have even gotten this thing—this most important thing—right._ Danny scolded himself. Currently, he was sandwiched between Joyce and Bernard Cooper in the backseat of Dr. Hactcher's sedan.

Joyce had taken the point of not taking to Danny since the NWA picked him up on his way back into town. No one had to say anything, really, since they knew immediately what Danny was up to; they followed him, didn't they?

Bernard was napping on the other side of him, so at least he was not directing any negative energy at Danny. Dr. Hatcher, seated in the driver's seat, concentrated on following Skinner's Jaguar, which just sped up again. Danny thought about the other passenger in Skinner's car: His dad.

_He must be furious at me._ Danny gulped. He could not remember the last time his dad had been this mad. Actually, he could not remember a single instance after his mother died that his dad got _really_ mad at him for anything. Just about anything he did wrong could be fixed with a month-long supply of junk food courtesy of cuts from his paycheck.

This time, though, the offense was much more serious. When Skinner's car pulled up in front of Danny after he parted ways with Nicholas, the elder Butterman was in the passenger seat, just glaring at Danny with unblinking fury. Danny barely even noticed when Dr. Hatcher came up beside him and led him to the back to his car, where Bernard and Joyce secured him in the back seat.

Danny tried not to worry about anything he could not fix now. Whatever else happens tonight, now that he has betrayed the NWA, he knew here was no going back to his idyllic life. Now he concentrated on what to do about Nicholas. He had to help him, but actually coming up with an answer was very difficult. He was good at making friends with the community and shopping during patrol, but actually coming up with a plan of action at a time like this... all he could think of were the action movies where everyone shot at or blew up everything else until the hero was left standing, and that was not going to cut it since he has no guns, bombs or fast cars. He would have to think of something more practical.

_Okay, let's just review what I do know._ Danny thought as he tried his best to not give anything away to Joyce's scrutinizing glare. He looked up at the car ahead. Skinner and Inspector Butterman were in the lead car. Dr. Hatcher, Joyce and Bernard Cooper was in this car. There were other people in the two cars behind them, but Danny did not know how many.

Before he could get anywhere else with his analysis, Danny heard the shrill of tires peeling layers off onto the asphalt from a distance. Dr. Hatcher had stepped on the breaks to slow them down, and immediately after that, Danny saw his Volkswagen—the one he gave to Nicholas for his escape—spin sideways off the road on all four wheels. The car's front end slammed squarely into a sign post for Heston services and then came to a full stop.

"Nicholas!" Danny had his seatbelt off before Dr. Hatcher even stopped his car. Before anyone else from the NWA could react, he had climbed over the still-sleeping Mr. Cooper and was out the door, heading towards the totaled Volkswagen. Someone shouted behind Danny, but he was not to be stopped. "NICHOLAS!"

The driver's side door was ajar from the impact of the crash, so Danny had no trouble tearing it off of what little was left of the hinges. A cat-like whimper escaped from Danny's lips when he saw Nicholas. The young sergeant's head and arms were braced against the steering wheel. Shards of the shattered windshield stuck out from his arms and his head, highlighted by spots of blood now oozing from the wounds.

Danny resisted the urge to just grab Nicholas right then and there and remembered the bit of emergency medicine he had to learn as part of his training that was now relevant. He held Nicholas' head and neck as still as he could and gently leaned the sergeant's head back against the headrest. There was a particularly nasty cut on Nicholas' forehead and his eyes remained closed.

"Nicholas." Danny whispered. "Nicholas, can you hear me?"

"Danny, get away from there!" Inspector Butterman grabbed Danny's shoulder and pulled him back.

"Dad, no, Nicholas!" Danny shouted back and shook off his father's arm. "You can't kill him! You _can't!_" Danny's father started to argue with him, but was interrupted when Nicholas fell out of front seat of the car and onto the ground.

Danny dropped to his knees and pulled Nicholas towards him to rest the back of his head against his legs. "Nicholas?"

"I'm fine." Nicholas croaked, followed by a couple of labored breaths. "I... I..."

"What is it, Nicholas?" Danny asked. By now the entire cast of the NWA surrounded the pair, scowling that Nicholas did not take this opportunity to die.

"Who are you?"

Danny heard a couple of the NWA members take a step back after Nicholas said this. Instead of closing in to finish off the tenacious Sergeant Angel, everyone paused.

"Nicholas," Danny smiled weakly, "it's me, Danny."

"Danny..." Nicholas closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He reopened them again and bowed his eyebrows upwards. "I don't know any Danny's."

Danny looked at Nicholas like he was about to cry. Inspector Butterman knelt down next to him and patted him on the shoulder, trying to comfort his son.

"Officer?" Nicholas now looked at Inspector with the same confused expression. "Officer, how did you get here so fast? How... how long have I been out?"

"Everything will be alright, Nicholas." The inspector smiled. "Help is on its way."

"Thank you." Nicholas closed his eyes again, his breaths steady as he fell unconscious again. Danny hitched his breath but relaxed once he realized Nicholas was just sleeping.

The members of the NWA considered the scene before them.

_What to do?_ They all thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Forgetten

It turns out that Danny Butterman still had real estate in what was left in the hearts of the NWA members. The police constable clutched tightly onto Nicholas, defending the unconscious sergeant with just his shouting alone. None of the NWA members made a move against Danny, now that circumstances no longer seemed as urgent as before. Only an hour ago they resolved that if Danny did betray them that they would dispatch of even their own leader's son. However, now the necessity seemed less definite and everyone's resolve seemed to be teetering.

"Danny," Inspector Butterman whispered, "Sergeant Angel needs Dr. Hatcher's help. You need to let him go."

"NO!" Danny shouted back, his voice noticeably hoarse. "You just want to kill him! I'm not going to let it happen. You'll have to kill me, too!"

"Danny—son, I'm not going to hurt Sergeant Angel now."

"What do you mean?" Danny sniffled.

"What your father is trying to say that Sergeant Angel is no longer a threat." Dr. Hatcher took a step towards Danny with both empty hands raised to the air. "If he really doesn't remember you, then he may not remember the... inconvenient facts he uncovered about Sandford."

"You don't mean that!" Danny scooted away from Dr. Hatcher's advance, and dragged Nicholas with him. "You're trying to trick me!" Danny stopped moving when he noticed Nicholas winced whenever Danny moved him. He looked around the NWA member's faces as he tried to gauge their sincerity, though he doubted he could trust his own judgment since he was fooled for more than 20 years.

"What would you have happen instead, Danny?" Inspector Butterman continued. "Take one of our cars and drive Nicholas to the nearest town with a hospital?" Danny seemed about to nod before his father stopped him. "You know how many kilometers we are away from the nearest medical station, and he may not survive that long ride. You don't know if he has any internal injuries or broken bones or even a concussion."

"He's telling you the truth, Danny." Dr. Hatcher took another step. "Here, let me look at him." The doctor knelt down next to Danny, who did not protest since he did not want to move Nicholas any more than necessary. Danny, however, still had an iron grip on Nicholas. "Sergeant Angel?"

"Ugh..." Nicholas' eyes opened again. "Is the driver alright?"

"Driver?" Danny asked. "What driver?"

"The taxi driver." Nicholas tried to look around, but his eyes seemed unable to focus on a single person. "I was riding in... a taxi... to Sandford... Is he... alright?"

"Let's just worry about you for now." Dr. Hatcher withdrew a penlight from his coat pocket. "Stare straight at me. Okay, now follow the light." The doctor passed his the light from left to right of Nicholas' eyes. "Joyce, please get my bag from the car. Nicholas, keep your eyes on the light."

"How do shou know my name?" Nicolas' speech started to slur.

"Nicholas, you're suffering from a concussion." Dr. Hatcher put his penlight away. "Is anything else hurting?"

"The pain esh not so bad." Nicholas began. "But I can't sheem to move my arms..."

"SORRY!" Danny, who had both arms around Nicholas' body from his tantrum before immediately let go of Nicholas' arms, which led to Nicholas' upper body to fall unceremoniously back onto the ground.

"Arugh!" Nicholas grunted and moved his other arm to cradle the shoulder he landed on, to which Danny continued to repeat his apology, each a higher pitch than the one before, until Dr. Hatcher patted the young Constable on the back.

By now Joyce had returned with the doctor's bag. From it, Dr. Hatcher retrieved a hypodermic needle and a vial of medicine.

"What's that supposed to be?" Danny sounded even more distressed than before, panicked that this would be the end of Nicholas.

"Nicholas," Dr. Hatcher addressed the sergeant directly and ignored Danny's protest, "I'm going to give you some pain medicine before we take you to the hospital, is that alright?"

Sergeant Angel nodded, and Danny watched wordlessly as Dr. Hatcher filled the needle and injected his patient. Nicholas' breathing slowed to a steady rhythm and he fell asleep once again.

"Danny," Dr Hatcher returned his attention to Danny. "We're going to take Nicholas to my office now. Help me get him to my car, we'll go together."

Danny nodded, satisfied for now that as long as he's with Nicholas that he can protect him. Danny carried Nicholas on his back and followed Dr. Hatcher to his car. The remaining members of the NWA watched Inspector Butterman carefully, trying to get some kind of indication of what was to be done next.

"Inspector," Tom Weaver moved himself behind Frank, "It appears Nicholas has lost his memory up until right before he arrived in town. Though it's a bit convenient, don't you think?"

"I see you already know what I'm thinking, Tom." Inspector Butterman nodded. "Coming here was a big change for Sergeant Angel, so maybe that's why his memory is gone from there... if he really does have amnesia." The inspector paused and waited for any comments from the other NWA members. There was none, so he continued. "Of course we'll still have to keep an eye on him and Danny, but if he really doesn't remember anything that is a threat, then we don't have to kill Danny either." Frank stared after Dr. Hatcher's car as it turned to head back into Sandford. "I know him better than he does, and as long as we have Sergeant Angel in our care, Danny won't try anything fancy. He knows if he tells Angel anything that we will be forced to get rid of Angel. Actually," Frank chuckled, "you might say that Danny will be the one with the biggest motivation to make sure Angel doesn't remember anything."

"So as long as Angel really doesn't remember anything..." Tom thought of another problem. "If he returns to the force, what if he discovers everything all over again?"

"We won't make the same mistake twice." Frank answered. "For now, though, let's worry about the present."

Nicholas sipped cranberry juice from a carton, and looked like a very serious-minded fifth grader doing so with Constable Butterman seated nearby. Danny, who continued to feel responsible for Nicholas' welfare, concentrated on Nicholas like a mother hen to her charge.

"I'm quite alright, Constable—" Nicholas started in between sips.

"Danny," The constable corrected. "And don't say you're 'quite alright'. You're bandaged up quite like a mummy." Nicholas was wearing his share of bandages; both of his forearms were bandaged from the broken glass and a rectangular piece of gauze adored the left side of forehead. On his right ankle—presumably sprained against the gas pedal—was a compression bandage. The rest of him that was not bandaged up was sore from the collision, but he tried his best not to show that to the constable.

"I'm quite alright, Constable." Nicholas started again. Currently he was a checked into one of the in-patient beds at Dr. Hatcher's clinic for observation, where Danny insisted on waiting with Nicholas. "I'm sure you have better things to do than to keep a vigil here." He set the carton of cranberry juice down on the bedside table and returned to Danny. "As the doctor said, it's just amnesia."

"Yes, but I just thought I could help, s'all."

"Constable—"

"Danny,"

"Maybe you can help." Nicholas nodded. "Do you think you can bring any case files I've worked on while I've been in Sandford to me? Perhaps that would help jog my memory."

Danny's face lit up for a moment at the prospect of being able to do something to help Nicholas, but just as quickly that enthusiasm failed. He bit his lower lip and carefully considered his options. He didn't know how, but he was sure Tom Weaver was watching somewhere through one of his NWA cams, and he didn't want to put Nicholas in jeopardy again.

"Well, you haven't worked on any cases since you've been here."

"I haven't?" Nicholas' brow furrowed. "How long did you say I've been here?"

"About a week."

"And I've not spoken to a single person about anything?"

"Well, you did give that talk at the primary school on becoming a police officer."

"Not a single traffic stop?"

"No."

"Jaywalking?"

"We don't have traffic lights."

"Oh."

"Well, you did fill out some papers at the station." Danny nodded.

"Oh yeah?"

"But do you really think your time sheets will help?"

Nicholas stared neutrally at Danny, but when the constable did not take back his offer, Nicholas simply nodded. "Yeah, if you could get me those tomorrow that would be... informative."

"I can run them by in a half an hour, I can come back today."

"Constable, it's really getting late." It was only 4 o'clock, but sunlight was already fading away. "You've been here since 10 o'clock this morning and you haven't eaten a proper meal."

"Well, I did have half of that sandwich you had for lunch." Danny smiled fondly as he remembered sharing a lunch with Nicholas. "I promise I'll return the favor. Do you like fried chicken?"

"No, er, I can't say I do." Nicholas considered the amount of cholesterol in a piece of friend chicken and quickly pushed the idea off. "It'll be fine if you just bring some for yourself."

"So I'll see you tomorrow then! Oh! And I'll go water your peace lily." Danny got up and headed towards the door. "Call me if you need anything, I left my phone number on your nightstand!"

"Thank you consta—Danny." Nicholas waved and smiled one of his 'on public patrol' smiles.

Danny waved enthusiastically again, and was left Nicholas for the evening. Nicholas' attention returned to the nightstand, where the empty cranberry carton still sat. He picked up the carton and looked around for a trash bin.

When one suddenly appeared immediately to his left, Nicholas flinched and nearly toppled off of the bed in shock. A hand clamped down on his shoulder to steady him.

"I do apologize for startling you, Sergeant Angel." Simon Skinner removed his hand from Nicholas' shoulder. "Here, let me get this." The merchant took the carton from Nicholas and disposed of it into the trash bin. "I hope you're doing well."

"Thank you." Nicholas waited for his heart rate to steady as Skinner set the trash bin beside his bed. "Mr..."

"Skinner, Simon Skinner." The merchant offered his hand to Nicholas to shake, which the sergeant reluctantly accepted. "I'm the local supermarhe. I heard you were down with a bit of Amnesia, so I wanted to come by to offer my condolences."

"Don't you mean, 'well wishes'?" Nicholas resisted the urge to pull his hand away and dip it in a bucket of alcohol.

"Yes, of course." Skinner laughed and ended the handshake. "I'm never quite good with sayings. In any case, Dr. Hatcher thought it would be a good idea for you to get acquainted with the town again. Since we've both fond of running, I've com to take you on a tour of my favorite running routes."

"I'd like that, Mr. Skinner, but I'm a bit mobility impaired at the moment."

"No worries, Dr. Hatcher thought of that and had a wheelchair prepared just for the occasion."

"I see." Nicholas studied Skinner's smiling countenance and glanced out the door to get a glimpse of the wheelchair Skinner talked about.

"I'll get your coat and the wheelchair. You'll like the walk, you really will."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: My Village

"This is my favorite part of my morning run: Here by on the main street. Ah, look, there's Mrs. Faulker; she runs a boutique just down the street." Skinner pushed Nicholas' wheelchair down the brick-lined streets of Sandford and named each of the city's residents for Nicholas as they saw them.

"Did I meet her before my accident?" Nicholas asked. He looked straight ahead, though what he really wanted to do was to look at Skinner properly. As much as he wanted to keep an eye on Skinner, it was impossible to turn around in the wheelchair to look straight back.

"No, I don't believe you have, unless you spent some of your time off browsing for a party dress!" Skinner laughed heartily. "I'm joking, of course, I doubt you really had _any_ time off, since you always seemed to be working."

"I suppose I was just doing my job." Nicholas replied flatly, completely ignoring Skinner's joke as he was in no such mood.

"Of course. Oh! This is actually not part of my run, but maybe coming this way will help you remember something." Skinner pushed Nicholas' wheelchair onto an alleyway. "I still distinctly remember you chased down a thief from my store through this way. I heard from Danny you were quite the hero, and pulled off some amazing acrobatics over some backyard fences."

"I see." Nicholas replied, unsure what to make of Skinner's story. What most concerned him now was that the two of them were effectively alone, in a back alleyway, with no witnesses; definitely a place he did not want to be at this time.

"Here at Sandford, we're very proud of our town." Skinner said with extra weigh in key places on the sentence. "We like our idyllic village the way it's been in the last twenty years, and _any_ crime increase is a direct attack on each and every member of this community."

To Nicholas' surprise, Skinner stopped pushing the wheelchair and walked around to face Nicholas. Skinner's expression betrayed nothing of what he meant to do next, but there was no question in Nicholas' mind that what the merchant was about to say was most definitely not for Nicholas' benefit.

"We do everything we can to protect our village, Sergeant Angel. You could say we're quite _possessive_ about our town. I'd like to believe that, as the new addition to the Sandford Police Service and being an exception officer, you will be a champion for that cause."

There was a pregnant pause while Nicholas tried to decide how to reply to this... suggestion. Thankfully Skinner's smile returned and he patted Nicholas on the shoulder. "Let's get you well as soon as possible so you can continue to do that job. Come on, I'll get you back to the clinic."

The trip back to the clinic was much quieter than the trip out, mostly because the town was closing down for the evening and everyone had gone. Skinner dropped Nicholas off at the front of the clinic after Nicholas' insistence that he could make it inside by himself and that he had already taken up too much of the merchant's time. Skinner smiled and waved like a seasoned diplomat before taking off.

Nicholas wheeled himself back to his room, where he saw a plush monkey was tucked comfortably inside his bed and dinner consisting of a sandwich and a glass of water was waiting for him on the over-bed table.

He pushed himself off of the wheelchair and hopped the rest of the way to the bed-side on his good leg.

The plush monkey was wearing a blue shirt with the words "I'm with Stupid" written on it. Nicholas shook his head as started to push the monkey to one side when he heard a conspicuous crinkle of paper from underneath the monkey's shirt. Nicholas got into bed and pulled the covers over him and the plush. Underneath the sheets he carefully felt for the hidden piece of paper from underneath the monkey's shirt, pulled it loose and tucked it into his waistband, all while trying not to disturb the top of the sheets.

Nicholas pulled the over-bed table towards him, but also made a show of knocking over the dinner plate from the over-bed table. The plastic plate did not shatter, but the sandwich was now just a mess on the floor.

"Towels, towels..." Nicholas scanned the room, then got out of bed again and reached for the crutch by his bedside. He slowly made his way to the bathroom down the hall, entered a stall and locked it behind him.

Nicholas took one last look around, checking for cameras. Even he did not believe the NWA was wicked enough to install cameras in a bathroom stall, but it did not hurt to check one last time. When he was convinced that he has selected a stall that was camera-free, he pulled the piece of paper from his waistband and unfolded it.

It simply read "Return me to the sea mine at midnight."

_Damn it,_ Nicholas thought, _how did he know?_

Nicholas knew it was Danny who left this message for him, and last thing he wanted was to get Danny involved. The stunt car crash (which he learned how to execute during his advanced driving course at the academy, along with how to brace himself for a crash), and amnesia were both done for Danny's benefit, and he does not want the young police constable to find out, try to help Nicholas, and get on the wrong side of the NWA once again.

Even worse was that Skinner suspected something. Nicholas was sure the walk was more than just to verify he's lost his memory. Skinner pointedly wanted to tell him that he knew Nicholas was faking it. Though the fact remains that he has not yet been carted off by the NWA and chucked off a cliff, which was a good sign. This meant that Skinner has not yet convinced the rest of the NWA of his deception.

Nicholas felt the guilt hit him hard in the gut. Previously he thought he could carry on policing without having to resort to such tactics. As he told the school children at the primary school, the most important part of police work was "procedural correctness in the execution of unquestionable moral authority." It was a sacred creed he has kept true to since he started with the Met, but now it seemed more than just fancy verbiage. How could he execute unquestionable moral authority when he's a big fat liar?

The guilt he felt for lying to the NWA paled in comparison to the guilt he felt about lying to Danny. After all, the NWA did try to kill him, but Danny has done nothing but try to protect him. He didn't believe Danny would betray his trust, but the problem was that Danny was _too_ guileless. The members of the NWA would be able to see right through Danny.

_Well, apparently Danny can also read_ me_ like a book._ Nicholas shook his head. Nothing in his conversation with Danny should have revealed his game, but Danny somehow knew.

Danny did have the good sense of hiding the note in the monkey instead of confronting him outright where the NWA cameras could see. He also had the good sense of choosing the only completely NWA camera-free place in Sandford to meet. After all, the NWA itself was headquartered in the police headquarters, and it was always staffed by a member of the police service, so the NWA thought it was unnecessary to install cameras there. Maybe Danny did not need as much protecting as he thought.

Towards midnight Nicholas took a hold of his cane and hobbled out of the clinic. His story—should anyone ask—is that he felt like he might have remembered something and felt it was urgent he took a look immediately. Once he was sure he was out of view from any of the NWA cameras—which were all conveniently marked by signs promoting the NWA—he picked up his cane and broke into a jog. He did sprain his ankle during the carefully executed car crash, just not as badly as he let on. It was another "safety net" he wanted the NWA to think they had over Nicholas. Since they thought he was immobile, no one would be monitoring his whereabouts in the middle of the night, which afforded him time to go meet Danny.

Nicholas snuck into the police station through one of the back doors to avoid Sergeant Turner at the front desk. Quietly he made his way to the evidence room, where the sea mine was currently kept. He waited until the door shut behind him before he made a sound.

"Danny?" Nicholas whispered. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room, where the only light source was the small window at the top of the back wall.

"So you didn't lose all of your memory." Danny said flatly. As Nicholas' eyes adjusted, he could make out Danny's silhouette behind the sea mine.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Nicholas was still going to make a go at trying to convince Danny he lost his memory. "Someone left me a note to meet them here."

"Well," Danny sounded more crossed now, "how did you know where _here_ was again?"

Nicholas started to answer, but recalled the exact wording of the note and knew Danny had him.

"You tricked me." Nicholas chuckled. "So you weren't sure whether or not it was an act, and wrote down something I could only know if I had my memory."

"Well, I couldn't just come out and ask you now, could I?" Danny stepped around the sea mine towards Nicholas. "I know what you're trying to do, and it's really sweet, but I want you to know you can count on me on this, so you didn't have to lie to me."

"The second an NWA member asks you, you'll give away the game." Nicholas' voice went up an octave. "I don't want you in danger again! Not to mention Skinner pretty much _told_ me he knows I'm faking it."

"Skinner?! Did he do something? Cuz if he did—"

"No, all he did was take me out for a walk, pleasantly threatened me with subtext and invaded my personal space." Nicholas sighed. "So nothing is new."

"Well, what's the plan then?" Danny leaned in, and—from the look in Danny's eyes—Nicholas thought Danny seemed to be enjoying his new mission a bit too much. "Are we going to start by blowing up the NWA headquarters? Do we take out a couple of suspects and interrogate them?"

"I don't have a plan right now, alright." Nicholas almost wanted to point out the NWA headquarter also happened to be Police Headquarters. Danny seemed noticeably disappointed at Nicholas' answer. "But since we're here, let's take a look around your dad's office. Maybe he has something around there to help us prove to the Met of what's really going on there."

"Okay! Let's go!"

"Shhhh! Sergeant Turner is still on duty. We have to be quiet."

Danny lowered his voice, but still seemed excited about being back on duty with Nicholas. The police constable opened the door to the evidence room and did his best ninja impression as he tip-toed down the corridor. Nicholas followed suit, but suddenly got a bad feeling he was being watched. As far as he could remember from visiting the NWA camera room, none of the cameras were trained inside or outside of the police station, so he quickly dismissed the idea and quietly followed Danny to the Inspector's office.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Can't Come Home Again

Inspector Butterman's office was unlocked. Whether the Inspector was overconfident about security or if he simply thought no one in town would be interested in non-existent police documents and his wild west collection of goods, neither Nicholas nor Danny wasted any time to look at the gift horse in the mouth. Danny bee-lined for the period police uniform display—in search for a secret compartment, he proudly announced—and Nicholas went for the more practical hiding place of the Inspector's desk drawers.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" Danny asked as he looked at the area between the display at the wall. "Files? Weapons?"

"I don't know exactly." Nicholas flipped through a stapled packet he pulled out of the top drawer. "Anything out of the ordinary I guess." He picked up the next packet and started to flip through the pages, but set it down and looked pointedly at Danny. "Speaking of which, can I ask how you knew I was faking the amnesia?"

"I just had a hunch, I guess." Danny replied without looking up from his inspection of the display. "I think it was when I barraged you with all my action movie trivia during lunch."

"Come again?"

Danny pursed his lips and stared up at the ceiling while he recalled the conversation they had earlier. "Well, like when I said your car crash was like a scene from Bad Boyz II, you didn't make that face you made when I first talked to you about Point Break."

Nicholas nodded, impressed with Danny's new-found observational skills, though he wondered if their combined skills were enough to out-fox the NWA plus the more immediate problem of one Simon Skinner.

His thoughts drifted back to the strange speech Skinner gave him earlier in the evening. While he downplayed it for Danny's benefit before, inside his own head, all sorts of alarms were still going off. Skinner's oppressive demeanor earlier that evening was so powerful that even the mere memory of it would not let go of Nicholas' mind. Skinner knew of Nicholas' plan, so the sergeant's always-ticking mind prioritized fixing that problem before the matter of the NWA. Though, for the first time he could remember, Nicholas' fear was getting the better of him. No matter how hard he tried to think of something, he could not come up with a proper plan, so in Nicholas' mind, he might as well have been caught in his pajamas whilst standing inside the water fountain in the center of town, swan plush in hand.

"Hey look!" Danny interrupted Nicholas' thoughts. "It's the paperwork you filled out on the shoplifter from Somerfields!"

"Was there anything else filed with it?" Nicholas walked and studied the file over Danny's shoulder. "Something showing they planned to kill him?"

"They what?!" Danny turned around and stared at Nicholas with wide eyes. Nicholas cringed; obviously Danny hadn't put two and two together yet about Pete, and Nicholas managed to introduce this bit of news without any warning whatsoever.

"I'm sorry Danny... while I was down in the catacombs... Pete's body was down there, along with a couple of other people I'd arrested earlier." Nicholas named some of the other unlucky NWA victims for Danny.

Of course there were bodies Nicholas could not recognize because they were murdered before he was even assigned to Sandford, but the sergeant could tell that even naming the few names of the deceased he did know gave Danny a great shock.

"I thought Sergeant Popwell just got sent away..." Danny looked down at his own lap and shook his head. "I know the Andes joked about you jumping in his grave... but I never thought he'd actually died...Dad said he was in a hospital...I'd even sent him a card..." The police constable's voice trickled off towards the end of his last sentence, as if the weight of his thoughts drifted off to something else besides the get well card.

Nicholas stared helplessly at Danny's back and felt awful for making Danny feel worse. While everything had been pretty hectic for Nicholas, they've no doubt been equally bad for poor Danny as well. At least Nicholas had only known the NWA members for two weeks before finding out they were murdering sociopaths. To Danny, these were people he's known for his entire life. It seemed that Danny was still wrestling with the idea that there were real dead bodies—courtesy of the NWA—stored just below the castle.

"Why don't you go on home to bed?" Nicholas suggested, but did not want to seem condescending so he added: "It is pretty late and we're both pretty tired. I still have to sneak around the long way home to avoid the NWA cameras. Ideally I should go and see if they have any footage of the hospital to avoid questions tomorrow as well..."

"I already took care of that bit." Danny said, though his voice still rung hallow. "I rigged a little malfunction in the recorder room. All of tonight's tapes stopped just before our meeting so nothing is recording right now. I made another copy of last night's hospital tape so it'll look like you never left the hospital. You can take the direct route home."

"Thank you, Danny." He patted Danny on the shoulder, really as a congratulatory sign for such a good move, though it seemed inappropriate to say it at such a dark moment. Nicholas made a mental note to compliment Danny later. "Come on, let's clean up."

Silently the two packed up everything back up to their rightful place, though the two officers left the office with spirits noticeably dimmer than when they met up less than an hour ago.

"Danny," Nicholas started after they moved outside, "I'll probably be released from the clinic in a couple of days. I really don't want to stay at The Swan now that I know... well... could I stay at your place?"

Danny's face lit up immediately from the suggestion. "OF COURSE! It's really the only place that's safe, isn't it? Oh, it'll be fantastic! We could watch Lethal Weapon one through three in marathon! Or maybe we could watch Bad Boyz II in case you really forgot some of it from the crash, or maybe Point Break again just because it's a classic!"

Normally Nicholas would have stopped Danny from proceeding any further in his speech, but he was just glad to see Danny bounce back—if only temporarily—from being depressed about the NWA affair. He waited until Danny had to stop and breathe before he suggested they really get home.

The two agreed they would hold off on any major moves until they regrouped at Danny's house. Nicholas waved after Danny and watched as the police constable dashed as stealthily as he could towards his parked police car. Nicholas was about to turn and go himself, but he thought he saw something move into an alley way several blocks down.

As Danny's car started and pulled away, the headlights of the police vehicle illuminated a corner of the offending alley. Nicholas squinted hard as he tried to see as much as he could from the brief lighting change. He thought he saw a flutter of a coat or some other movement and decided to move in to investigate.

Quickly as he could with his slightly bad ankle, Nicholas zeroed in on the alley, his cane raised and ready for a fight. As he approached, he thought he could hear another set of footsteps heading away from him. Nicholas frowned and stepped faster, determined to round the corner before the offender could leave, but when he did finally make in to the alley, it was deserted, save for a calico cat which sat atop one of the recycling bins.

An exhalation escaped Nicholas, who was visibly unnerved and still not entirely convinced he and the cat were alone. The calico made known her annoyance at Nicholas' intrusion with a disgruntled meow, leapt off the garbage can and headed farther into the alleyway, which was actually towards a dead end. The only doorway in the alley was boarded up with some weathered boards.

Seeing the dead end, Nicholas was not so sure he actually heard footsteps of a person of if it was the calico all along.

Nicholas wished—oddly as it sounded—that if anyone was here before that it was Skinner, since he already knew about Nicholas' plan. Should anyone else know for a fact that he and Danny were up to something, it would mean a whole new wrench in their plans. Though the possibility that Skinner now knows that Danny was in on the plan was a frightening idea all on its own.

"Sorry." Nicholas said to the cat as it glared at him defiantly from the boarded up doorway. Moments after the sergeant left the alleyway, the "boarded up" door tilted outwards, apparently not held by actual hinges on the inside. Since it could swing outwards, the boards that seemingly secured the door was little more than decoration.

The calico quickly rushed through the gap, past the leg of the man who held the door open.

The move from the hospital happened faster than Nicholas had anticipated. Two days after Nicholas and Danny's meeting at the Police Department, Dr. Hatcher informed Nicholas that he would be released from the clinic's care. The very next afternoon, Nicholas was packing his bags to leave the hospital.

"Another bit of good news is that your cottage is now ready!" Dr. Hatcher beamed at the Sergeant. He had stopped by to wish Nicholas well—on the surface anyway—and stood next to the hospital bed as the Sergeant packed his bag. "Tina—she works at Somerfields—will be delivering some goods you might need later this afternoon since it is your first time moving in and all."

"That won't be necessary." Nicholas zipped packed the last of his belongings into the small overnight bag. "Constable Butterman suggested I stay at his flat until I get back into the swing of things."

"Oh, well, of course." Dr. Hatcher seems a bit taken aback, but not completely surprised. "You and Constable Butterman were getting along quite well before your accident, and I'm glad to see you've picked that right back up."

"He seems like a good officer." Nicholas was careful not to seem too familiar with Danny since they're supposed to have just met in Nicholas' mind. "He's been by to visit every day since I woke up, so I thought it would be rude not to accept such an offer from a fellow officer."

"Well, call me if you need anything." Dr. Hatcher nodded. "Make a note of any strange headaches or anything out of the ordinary even if it doesn't seem urgent. Your cab is waiting for you outside. I told him to take you up to your cottage, but I'm sure he knows where Danny lives. Just let him know about the change."

"Thank you for your attention, doctor." Nicholas carefully slung the shoulder bag strap onto his shoulder and walked slowly out of the clinic's observation room, leaving the cane behind. Dr. Hatcher wordlessly followed Nicholas as the two of them made their way down the hall.

As promised, the cab was waiting outside. Nicholas thanked the doctor again before climbing inside the cab. The Sergeant smiled pleasantly and waved to the doctor as the cab pulled away.

"Thank you very much for coming to visit Mrs. Fair." Nicholas nodded again and smiled his best smile. No one would argue that Sandford was a very close-knit community with a lighting-speed human network of information, at least not if they were at Danny's flat the afternoon Nicholas arrived. Before Nicholas even had a chance to set his bag down, visitors from the village arrived with pies, casseroles, and other home-made goods dropped by to wish the Sergeant well. Even people he truly could not recall meeting knew of his car accident and his release.

Danny simply shrugged and mouthed "It weren't me" as Nicholas stared helplessly.

Two hours after the first visitor, Nicholas shut the door after the last visitor departed.

"How on earth did they all know to come today to visit?" Nicholas asked himself as he leaned against the closed door for support. When Danny continued to stare sheepishly at the pie he was eating, Nicholas pressed further. "Danny?"

"Well..." Danny poked the pie. "I might have mentioned it to a couple of people while I went to shop for some things for you. They might have told a couple of people, and so on..." Contrary to his earlier declaration, it appeared the visits were Danny's doing.

"Well, let's put all this food away before it spoils." Nicholas headed purposefully to the kitchen. "I hope you have space..." Nicholas stopped when he opened the refrigerator door. The first thing that he noticed was the state of disorganization. Open sodas of every kind were mixed with haphazardly wrapped take out cartons, Tupperware without covers, and things that might have once been fruit. The second thing he noticed was the smell of slightly spoilt food invading his nostrils.

"Danny," Nicholas mentally categorized each item as either "keep" or "toss" as he called his friend, "when was the last time you cleaned your fridge?"

"Clean my fridge?" Danny poked his head inside the kitchen. "I don't know... I don't think I've ever cleaned my fridge."

"Looks like I'll have to have a go at it or we'll never fit everything inside." Nicholas nodded. "Now let's see about our freezer."

Quite a different sight greeted him when he opened the freezer door. Chilled white smoke rolled dramatically from inside the freezer, and lined up inside were boxes of Cornetto. From first glance, Nicholas gathered that they were lined up alphabetically by flavor and then sub arranged by expiration date. Save for the couple of trays of ice neatly stacked to one corner, nothing else was inside the freezer but the meticulously arranged boxes of ice cream.

Suddenly it dawned upon Nicholas that Danny also displayed his DVD collection with the same care even though everything else was still half-packed inside moving boxes. Apparently Danny was a slob except when it comes to things he really loved.

"Oh! I've got to get back to the station!" Danny interrupted Nicholas' tangent thought. "I have to make up some hours that I missed this week. I left a blanket and pillow on the sofa, but you can just sleep in my bed if you want and I can take the couch. You going to be okay?"

"The couch will be fine, thanks! And I think I've got everything I need." Nicholas shut the both the freezer and refrigerator door. "All the excitement has made me a little tired. I'll start on the refrigerator once I lay down for a bit."

"No rush on that. The food isn't going to spoil in a couple of hours." Danny left the kitchen and headed toward the door. "I'll be back before you know it! Don't wait for me if you get hungry, though. You need your strength!"

Nicholas waved goodbye to Danny and returned to the living room. He felt rather ridiculous that—after spending the last two and a half days doing nothing more than just lying in bed—he was tired again. He picked up the blanket Danny left on the he plopped down on the armchair. Almost immediately after he closed his eyes, he fell asleep.

The front door to the apartment opened quietly, and in stepped Simon Skinner.

"My, did I come at a bad time?" Skinner's voice was just above a whisper, not betraying whether he wanted to wake the Sergeant or not.

Nicholas remained fast asleep on the couch, still unaware of Skinner's presence.

"I brought you some goodies." Skinner said to Nicholas and set the plastic bag he brought with him on top of one of the boxes. "I'm sure you will enjoy them."


End file.
